


What I'm Here to Say

by LupaCosta



Category: Original Work
Genre: Car Accident, Horoscope reference, I'm Bad At Tagging, Insomnia, Nightmares, Precognition, Realization, Reference to taking medication, Self Esteem Issues, Sort Of, just little bit, not explicit though, outcast, psychiatry, waking up screaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 01:44:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14033448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LupaCosta/pseuds/LupaCosta
Summary: Airlia Virgo used to be a normal girl. Even though she'd had insomnia ever since she could remember, she never let it affect her life.Until her family moves.And the nightmares begin...





	What I'm Here to Say

**Author's Note:**

> Hello people ;)
> 
> This is kinda short, kind angsty, really bad...
> 
> Enjoy:)

I always felt like something was wrong with me.

All of my life, I’ve never fit in anywhere.

So, I know most kids will tell one of three choices on where they stand in their society.  
They will tell you that, one: they are super popular and probably try and act all humble and most likely end up looking like snobs. Two: they might say that they are in kind of a middle ground. Not popular, but not picked on. And finally, three: they will tell you that they are the prey to anyone and everyone. The person nobody likes and the one that bullies target.

The always, unwanted, omega.

Well, I am here to tell you that I don’t fit into any of those categories.

Now, I am considered very strange. Though some say that strange doesn’t even cover it. They say that creepy, or bizarre would fit better. Kids and adults alike would know to steer clear of me, even if they’ve never met me before. It seems that I have a sort of….aura of unease you could say. People have always known to stay away from me.

I’m here to tell you that all my life, all those people were right. I’m here to tell you that I’ve always known that there was some problem in me. And now, I’m here because now I know what it is. I know what is wrong with me.

***

One thing that sets me apart, other than the obvious, is my name.

My name is Airlia Virgo. The first thing that people always ask when they hear my last name is: “You mean Virgo as in the horoscope?”

Yes people, same word.

And don’t even get me started on my first name.  
What I can’t figure out is why my parents named me ‘Airlia'

Sure I’ve asked them, but the best I’ve gotten so far is “We wanted a child who was a dreamer, and so, we named you ‘Airlia".

Eccentric people that they are.

I know they don’t mean it like this, but I can’t help but think that they must be heartbroken. They were dreaming of a child who would be a dreamer.

And they ended up with a kid with insomnia.

Yup, that’s right. I have insomnia. Never been able to sleep properly. And I probably never will. Even when I do sleep, all I get are nightmares.

Horrible nightmares.

So bad, in fact, that at one point, I started screaming in my sleep. I would always wake up afterwards, just to see my parents leaning over me, looking concerned and anxious. Eventually, they took me to see a psychiatrist.

As if I needed something else to set me apart. It seems like the list just keeps growing.

The psychiatrist talked to me and then to my parents about my sleeping problems. She wanted to know how long it had been going on, when I started screaming and, what they were about.  
There was no way that I was going to tell her or my parents exactly what they were about. I’d probably be put in a psych ward to spend the rest of my life with all the other crazy people. 

I mean, I know I’m crazy, but I’m not ‘psycho’ crazy.

So I told the doctor what I’ve said all along.

“I don’t know.”

I said that they disappeared every time I woke up. I still don’t know if they believed me but I’m not locked away somewhere so I must’ve done something right.

But you know, I used to be really happy.

Shortly after we started moving, and before the nightmares began.... I was actually happy.

Weird, right?

We lived in a tiny town called Caspar, and it was right on the coast of California. I went to a relatively small-ish school. I knew about everyone there. Back then, I think I was a bit spoiled. Being an only child and my parents being pretty well off, I got anything I asked for, within some reason.

We lived in a fairly big house, especially for a three person family. But despite my slightly (yeah right) spoiled lifestyle, my parents had taught me to act the opposite of what was expected of someone like me. And by that, I mean that they taught me values. They taught me that you only got things in life if you worked for it (I don’t think they really realized how much they spoiled me).

So yeah, I was happy. I had loving parents, a nice house, amazing friends at school and a full social life. Only a few of my closer friends knew I had insomnia, so I didn’t feel like that set me apart. But like it goes, all good things must come to an end.  
The first bombshell that hit my life was my mother’s job offer. The company she works for had offered (ordered) her a kind of promotion. The catch, because there’s always one, was that she had to move… 

To Oregon. And so, off we went.

At first, I tried to keep in contact with my friends. But soon, we all ended up calling each other less and less. Then we just stopped.

I can’t say that I was really ‘heartbroken’ over this, because I really wasn’t. I didn’t really feel anything about it.  
Anyways, shortly after we settled in our new house in Oregon, before I had started school yet, I had my first nightmare.

***

I remember how everything looked really bright, yet blurry at the same time. It was dark, and from what I could tell, it looked like it was about 2 o’clock in the morning.

I was aware that it was a dream and that surprised me. Not the fact that I knew I was dreaming, but that I had apparently been asleep long enough to dream in the first place. Normally I was only able to sleep if I had taken my medication.  
I stood on a street, both sides lined with old looking houses and a few shabby apartment complexes. Straight ahead was a dull yellow house. The green front lawn was fenced in black metal and had a sort of wooden swing/bench thing that looked a couple centuries older than the house. Parked in front of the house were two small cars; one red and shiny, the other dark gray and about as old as the bench. The house was dark and silent, like the rest of the street.

As I stood there in curious confusion, a sudden blinding light and a loud screech of tires shot through the tranquil street. I twisted my head to my right, though the movement felt agonizingly slow, like I was swimming in syrup. I was immediately met with white headlights. As they came closer, I made out a huge black truck that was swerving in the street, coming straight for me.

I tried to gasp, but nothing came out. Then I tried moving, but I seemed glued to the spot. 

I watched in almost detached terror as the truck came closer and closer with every molasses like second.

I held my breath, thinking that it would be the last one I’d take… and the truck passed right through me. As if I were a ghost.  
I didn’t even have time to breathe again before it slammed into the parked cars instead.

It was that moment that I woke up, still yet unable to breathe.

But this was only the beginning. Only a hint of what was to come. Because when woke for good that day and left my room, I came out to the sound of the local broadcaster, reporting that a man had been killed in a car crash a few towns over. I didn’t think anything of it at the time.

After that, the nightmares continued night, after night, after night, after night… Only until months had gone by, did I realize that I needed to do something. This wasn’t how I wanted to live my life. Never without an actual “good night’s sleep.”  
So from then on, as soon as I woke up, I wrote down the events, down to the very types of flowers I saw, and what exact color the pavement was. 

Seems a little over the top, right? Maybe a touch… Crazy? You haven’t seen nothing yet.

Once I had my book full of angsts, I read it all the way through. 

And you’ll never guess what I found. The one thing they all had in common?

The news.

Every single event. Every single terror. Every. Single. Night. Had all been reported as an awful occurrence. In. The. News. 

Every time I would have a disturbing, sleep filled night, in the morning, I would relive it during the day. Sometimes it was just a local accident. Others, were statewide shocking’s. But I recognized every. Single. One.

My panic attack was so serious, my parents had to take me to the hospital.

***

So here I am, eight years after, finally living my life with no fears. Because now I know how to deal with my constant night terrors.

Which is why I’m sitting here, in my home back in that small town in California that no one’s heard of before, writing this out to anyone willing to listen.

I know I was crazy.

I know I am crazy.

But now, I welcome the nightmares.

I know what they mean now.

Now, I know that I can do something with them.

Now, I finally know what to say.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So...
> 
> What'd you think?
> 
> I love Kudos but I love comments more; tell me what you're thinking.
> 
> :D


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